


When the King of Hearts is a Woman...

by LadyGraceGrey



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: ALL the tags, Abandonment, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Fencing, Fighting, Fluff, Miracles, Multi, One Night Stands, One-Sided Relationship, Revenge, Slow Burn, So many tags, True Love, Unhealthy Relationships, Unplanned Pregnancy, You see what I did there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:32:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGraceGrey/pseuds/LadyGraceGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many things have changed in Isabela's life. If there is one thing she can always count on it's change. </p><p>After a one illl conceived night, of which she has had many, the inevitable consequence occurs. But some things are not inevitable really, because really if they are then she may just be the unluckiest woman in all Thedas! To fall in love, to have her future changed to look so much like her past.... </p><p>And so we watch her run. Again and again. Too bad she can't seen to find her direction to run too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a Fic that has been bouncing around in my mess of a brain forever now. It will span all of the DA games, books, and Comics ideally. Most of it is Canon, but some is obviously HeadCanon. I apologize in advance for any lore breaking and illogical leaps. I am but a humble fan girl that roleplays Isabela in my free time.

The ceiling hadn't changed its patterns of scored stone and soot in all the time she spent studying it. Of course it wouldn't have... But it would have been nice of it to at least try while she was desperately willing herself to not focus on the magic flaring and coursing through her body. 

It wasn't like she wasn't used to the sensation or anything. But... This time it meant something different. Something that made cold hard terror grip her heart and make it difficult to breathe. She clenched her hands where they lay folded across her chest as a wave of nausea threatened to overcome her... Again. Breathing deeply through her nose she fought back the rising bile, too late and too little. She rolled over, the magic snapping away as she grabbed the bucket and heaved. Or well, tried to. Nothing was in her stomach anymore, not for days really. She hadn't been this I'll since her first time on a ship! 

"Here, drink this. It'll help you feel better while I finish. Then we can talk." Merrill's soothing lilt rang through the former silence of the room to drown out Isabela's gags and wretches. She nodded mutely as she propped herself up the first chance she got and took the worn mug of tea handed to her. 

She downed the contents quickly, it tasted worse than the piss they gave out at the Hanged Man, but even the thought of that threatened to send her back to the bucket.   
She shook her head and grimaced at the after taste, but her stomach didn't immediately rebel so that was nice. 

Sighing she laid back down with a thunk on the table Merrill had her laying on for the past hour. "Nearly done then?" Her voice was weak and shaking, nothing like her usual self. But then again... None of this was like her usual self. 

She heard more than saw Merrill nod, her braids and the beads in them smacking her face gently with the motion. Isabela folded her arms again and tried to relax as she felt Mana flood the small, dark, room. She could have gone to Anders. He was a skilled healer, admittedly better than Merrill was. But after his less than discreet announcement of her last visit... She couldn't trust him. 

She couldn't trust anyone but Merrill and Varric it seemed. And this time, it stung worse than ever. All those days fighting for them, taking the jokes over the last few months, the ridicule and scorn that came with it... And in the end she was alone. Always will be alone. Her heart thumped painfully in her breast. Perhaps not as alone as she thought. 

She clenched her eyes tight to will back the tears. Isabela never cried. Naishe did, and she wasn't that anymore. Naishe would be afraid, she would have run begging for help. For love. Isabela had no need of such weakness. Never again. 

Too bad she didn't feel much like being Isabela then. That all she wanted was to go running to that dilapidated mansion and bang on his door until he opened it for her. To scream and cry and curse at him. It wouldn't help, she knew that. They didn't have any sort of standing arrangements. And why would they? 

"All done now... Just checking their health signs now." Merrill's soft voice carried with it so much more pain than she ever thought possible. Unbidden a sob broke through Bella's defenses as she raised her hands to her face to try and hide the tears that finally gave way. 

So she was pregnant. Nothing would be the same again.


	2. Confession is Good for the Soul

She nearly laughed as the smell of incense tantalized her senses. It had been a long time since she could stand even stepping foot into these gilded halls, much less enjoy any of it. The pregnancy seemed to make the normally heady perfume almost delicious smelling. She did snort at the image of her grabbing a stick and eating it while she walked to the confessionals. Well… that thought sobered her again. 

She wasn't here to confess… not really. She remembered her mother once telling her that the teachers of the Qun were as good at listening and giving counsel as they were at helping a person find purpose. At the time, she had brushed off the thought. Why give anyone else that power over her? Why should she disclose her supposed sins when she had no intention of repenting them. It seemed… like most things Hari did.. A Con. A shame filled way to keep people in line. 

How odd that now she fell back on the words of a mother that never knew her, never loved her the way a mother should. She shrugged off the thought and pulled the hooded cloak tighter over her face as she made her way to the dark wooden booths hidden just under the main palpet. 

Her hand shook as she pushed open the small door and slipped inside. It was dark and she could at least give credit to those that built these for understanding that some things were better said in Darkness than light. Sighing she sat on the tiny bench next to the grated window. 

“I… need an ear to listen. I am in a bit of a bind Mother.” 

She spoke softly, wincing at the lack of confidence and the way her voice grated over her ears. She had cried harder and longer than she could ever remember. Merrill had tried her best to comfort her. But she didn't need comfort, she needed a plan. In all the bad situations in her life that is what pushed her through, a plan a course of action. She could deal with feelings later. 

She heard a sharp intake of breath and someone shifting in the other room. 

“I’m a simple brother, my lady, but I’ll do what I can to help ye. The Maker hears our prayers an our confession’s equally. You can unburden yourself here, an be at peace.” 

She knew that voice… And he knew hers. But he probably expected a prank. It was funny, in other situations she would happily do so even. But now… now she just hoped he would keep this meeting to himself. She sighed, her head thumping back on the wooden wall in frustration. Of course it would be him! Bullocks! Why didn't she check first?! 

But now she could either prank him… or go through with this. A wave of nausea washed over her and she groaned as she fought it. 

“My Lady… are you alright in there?” Oh the trepidation in his voice was unbearably tempting to exploit! But… she didn't have the heart. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Just feeling a bit ill. I… have to ask… you are bound to confidentiality right?” 

She heard him shift closer to the grate and take a breath. “Aye I am. Whatever you tell me here I’ll not share. This place is sacred… safe even. I’ll not be usin your name either.” 

A concession that he did recognize here, but he wouldn't use that. It was as much as she could ask. She steeled herself, there wasn't time to waste now. If she didn't do this.. She never would. 

“I… am with child.” 

The words were out of her mouth and she heard silence. Not even a breath from the other room. Then a chuckle. She bristled, here they went. Down the path of the age old mocking for being a whore. Despite knowing it could happen, she had hoped it wouldn't. But there it was. 

“Sebastian… I’m leaving. I can see what you’ll say now.” She was furious as she got up and slammed open the door. She heard a curse from the other room but she didn't have it in her to laugh at him. At least she could give him the respect he wouldn't give her. 

She stalked away and heard the other door opening behind her. Her whole body stiffened, she briefly wondered if it would make too much a scene to run. But his clipped steps behind her made her mind up for her. She unclasped the heavy cloak, letting it fall where she was and took off at a sprint for the main doors. Gasps and cries of outrage ran out as she pushed past people and booked it for the front. 

A smile, fake of course but her usual impishness plastered on her face. Let them think she had pulled a terrible trick on the Brother. That was better anyhow. She skidded to a stop in front of the giant gilded doors and pressed against it with her hip…

Only to topple into empty air as it opened for her. She saw the stairs coming up to meet her, and for a moment true terror washed over her. She was going to hit them! Going to land wrong and lose her babies! She screamed and put her hands out to stop herself…

She never hit the stone. A strong arm wrapped around her waist carefully holding her and pulling her back. She didn't realize her eyes were shut until she blinked them open to look at her rescuer. 

Sebastian’s face was ghastly pale, fear swirling in his blue eyes as his arm held her up and his other hand splayed against the open door. He had opened it… he had nearly tripped her. He had laughed at her! But he wasn't laughing now. He saved her, her and the tiny souls in her womb just starting to grow. 

He let go of the door and pulled her upright, his eyes searching her face. “We are going to talk Isabela… I thought… I thought you were joking… you’re not are you?” She bit her lip and shoved him away. Tears gathered in her eyes and she wrapped her arms protectively around her middle. She shook her head mutely but wouldn't look at him. Let him gloat! Fine! She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her broken down. 

His breath stuttered out in a sigh and she felt him grasp her arm. “Come on… we will talk in the gardens. Away from these damn stairs.” 

The last bit he hissed in anger. And she looked up shocked just in time to see him run a hand over his face before his calm look was back in place and he tugged her with him to the alcove that led to the private gardens. As they walked he pulled her closer, wrapping an arm over her shoulders as they walked. 

She glanced at him dumbfounded, but in the dark of the corridor it was hard to see his face.


	3. Choose

Sunlight bathed the tranquil gardens in warmth despite the cool breeze. Kirkwall was always a bit cooler…. Except in summer when it was sweltering hot. But lately the cold got to her more and more. She hated it. This feeling of weakness, like she wasn't in control of her own body. The sickness all through the day, the heightened sense of smell, the way her body flashed hot then cold. Her feet had started hurting too… she couldn't wait till they became swollen and she couldn't wear her boots! Even her thoughts dripped sarcasm. 

Sebastian led her to a stone bench and almost guided her down. It was like she was glass! She snorted irritated at him and pushed him away. He straightened with a sigh and ran a hand through his dark red hair. She bit her lip… that was another unwelcome side effect. Suddenly she was noticing everything about anyone remotely attractive and that she couldn't abide. She absently played with her lip stud as she looked away. 

“So… this the part where you tell me that I should have known better? That it was only a matter of time?” She gritted out. Like it or not, she was more than used to her ‘Friends’ way of teasing her. Only now she wasn't in the mood for teasing. She heard more than she saw Sebastian start pacing. 

“No… I think that if this was something so simple you wouldn't have kept it.” She felt as though she had been slapped. She got to her feet and stalked the few steps over to him. The echo of a sharp smack broke through the chirping of birds. 

Sebastian stood stunned, a red mark forming over his left cheek and Isabela before him with her hand still poised in the air across her body. “How… DARE you!! I thought you wanted to Talk! Not berate me! You… you bastard! How could you even..” She wished her voice didn't waver. She wished she wasn't crying. She wished she couldn't have predicted his response… but she could, and naively she hoped he wouldn't have. But of course he did. 

His jaw clenched as he looked at her, his eyes coming into focus and promptly widening at the tears that tracked down her cheeks. He reached for her raised hand and cradled it. His lips pursed, “I have never seen you cry… I.. I feel as though I don't know anything now.” He looked to his feet, more than just her stinging slap coloring his face. 

“I deserved that. Maker have mercy, I can't have handled this worse could I?” She yanked her hand out oh his grip and turned her back on him. What was she supposed to say to that?! He reacted exactly as she feared Fenris would… maybe that is why she hurt so deeply. 

All of this… it just served to reinforce her fears of yelling him. And she took that anger out on Sebastian instead. She knew it. Knew herself enough to know she was pushing him into his responses. She could have been humble about it all. Could have just… talked! 

But she didn't, hadn't given him word one for any explanation and left him to put pieces together. And he did, as any rational person would. 

It was up to her. With stinging clarity the weight of it settled on her. Did she tell him the truth? Shatter his ideas of who she was? Or… did she handle this like Isabela? Like the confident and unshakable woman he knew. 

She paced back to the bench, needing distance from him. From all of this! But she couldn't run from it could she? She sat on the bench still debating with herself. She distantly hear his question, and the repeat. It wasn't until she felt him lift her chin to look at him that his words finally filtered through her chaotic mind. 

“Do you know who the father is?” 

“....... No.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make my muse dance and play! Like cat nip for the cats! Which makes the cook happy... Oh you get the idea.


End file.
